#i got bored and so baldi is in smash bros

[nintendork135]

Baldi Smash Brothers Moveset

Neutral Attacks

Jab: Swings ruler up, down, then kicks forwards

Rapid Jab: Repeatedly swings ruler back and forth, ends in a large strike with the ruler that goes to the ground

Forward Tilt: Leans forwards and claps his ruler into his hands

Up Tilt: Swings Arts and Crafters around his head, who screeches with his mouth open

Down Tilt: Summons Gotta Sweep, who pushed forwards along the ground quickly

Other Attacks

Dash Attack: Is stopped by The Principal of the Thing, who acts as the hitbox. tPotT stays on the stage for up to 3 seconds, similar to Duck Hunt’s Wild Gunmen

Ledge Attack: Tosses a quarter onto the stage and then pulls himself up, and picks up the quarter. Quarter can be picked up like an item

Trip Attack: Hits the ground in front of and behind him with his ruler

Floor Attack: Kicks in front of and behind him

Smash Attacks

Forward Smash: Shakes can of BSODA rapidly and then sprays it in a cloud. The cloud gets larger the longer the move is charged, and has a slight windbox

Up Smash: Gets out jump rope and begins to spin it around him as he taps his feet. When released, he jumps into the air where he spins it rapidly around him, dealing multiple weaker hits

Down Smash: Summons Gotta Sweep and hops on, who then quickly jerks forwards and backwards

Aerial Attacks

Neutral Air: Spins ruler around him

Forward Air: A sweeping kick

Down Air: A quick slice of the ruler downwards. Can spike at the tip halfway through the move

Back Air: Spins around and swings out a notebook

Up Air: Flips a Quarter above his head

Grabs

Grab: Reaches out with his arms and grabs

Pummel: Whacks opponents with his ruler

Forward Throw: Slaps opponents away with ruler

Back Throw: 1st Prize appears in front of Baldi and rushes forward, knocking the opponent behind Baldi

Down Throw: Throws opponent to ground and stomps them twice

Up Throw: Throws opponents up into the air and strikes them with the ruler

Specials

Neutral Special: Notebook

Cycles through the 7 notebooks, and throws them, which each have different damage values. The values are 5%, 10%, 15%, 20%, 25%, 30%, and 35%. Each notebook has a different cooldown time, which are 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, and 13 seconds respectively.

Side Special: 1st Prize Push/Arts and Crafters Push

1st Prize is summoned and dashes forward, pushing away opponents and dealing minor damage OR after reaching 100%, summons Arts and Crafters, who dashes forwards significantly faster and deals much more noticeable damage

Down Special: Bear Trap

Plants a bear trap onto the ground, which activate once an opponent walks over them, temporarily stunning the opponent. Up to 3 bear traps can be placed onto the ground at a time

Up Special: Cloudy Copter

Summons Cloudy Copter and grabs onto them, and is raised into the sky. Does not deal damage, but goes a significant distance. Can be slightly angled

Final Smash

Get Out While You Still Can

Baldi summons a pair of yellow doors that slam shut. Any opponents hit by the doors are then transported to a cutscene, where doors shut all around them, and then Baldi appears in front of them, letting out his signature static noise and striking the characters with his ruler powerfully. Opponents are instantly killed if they reach 100% or more.

Alternate Colors

1. Original color

2. Red shirt as a reference to Playtime

3. Orange shirt with blue sleeves as a reference to This is a Bully

4. Grey-white shirt as a reference to Arts & Crafters

5. Black shirt and grey pants as a reference to tPotT

6. Dark green shirt and black pants as a reference to Gotta Sweep

7. Party hat from Birthday Bash

8. Camping hat and backpack from Baldi’s Field Trip

Idle Animations

1. Slaps ruler into hand and frowns, then gets happy again

2. Pulls out You Can Think! Pad™ and solves a quick problem

Taunts

Up Taunt: Looks at camera and does his crazy wave, saying “Hi!”

Side Taunt: Pulls out one of many items and whistles. Items include a quarter, energy flavored zesty bar, safety scissors, a present, principal’s keys, a drawing of 0th Prize, and an image of PlaceFace

Down Taunt: Slaps ruler in his hand 3 times and frowns at the camera

Victory Screens

Screen 1: is seen doing a problem on the You Can Think! Pad™, looks up, and smiles and waves at camera

Screen 2: starts off far from camera, and slaps ruler 3 times, where he is close to the camera, frowning, then continues slapping ruler and stands still

Screen 3: pulls out a quarter and puts hand on hip, smiling at the camera

@incorrectsmashbrosquotes

[confessionsofacookie]

Wrong Idea (Part 1&2 Combined) (Santino D’Antonio x Reader) John Wick Universe

NOTICE: I am re-posting Wrong Idea as a full fic. Sorry for the breaks. It was done that way because i wrote it on the work computer and i can’t very well write smut there. So i just posted Part 1 of what i wrote combined with Part 2.

PS: Smut is to the end! Just a FYI~

For the Anon:

Ey can I get a jealous Antonio fix were the reader works for him and he sees her with cassian like they’re hugging and shit cause they’re bros but Antonio doesn’t know that so he’s like why don’t I get attention like that. So just a mixture of smut and fluff

Pairing: Santino D’ Antonio x Reader

Warnings: None

Wrong Idea

I was propped against the wall, waiting, bored, shivering and feeling like I was going out of my mind. Footsteps sounded down the limestone, arched corridor I was guarding. Shift change, my favourite time of the day aside from payday.

“y/n,” acknowledged my replacement.

“Hey, Lonnie,” I returned good naturedly.

Guarding my employers place was a pain in the ass. Almost weekly he had meetings or parties – parties were the worst, never for a moment being able to relax. I swear I feel myself going cross eyed at times from trying to scope out threats.

I departed from my previous position and went in look of my friend. Naturally I found him waiting for me at the end of the stairs.

“Hey, Cheekbones,” I called to Cassian.

His tall, slim, golden brown framed swivelled at the sound of my voice.

“What’d I say about calling me that?” he asked annoyed.

I skipped down the steps grinning at him “, that you liked it and you much preferred it over baldie?”

I reached the stair on which he stood and linked my arm with his.

“Oh, you’re so warm!” I exclaimed and proceeded to stick my chilly fingers around his neck.

Cassian ducked with lightening reflexes, my fingers only grazing his skin “, you’re such a reptile!”

I hissed at him and he laughed heartily.

Someone cleared their throat. I knew that sound anywhere. Instantly, we composed ourselves and turned to the sound. Heavy lidded chartreuse eyes and raised eyebrows regarded us with a sour scowl.

“Mr. D’ Antonio,” we greeted our employer – well mines.

Cassian was on loan from D’ Antonio’s sister Giana, or so he said. I didn’t ask about the details because in our line of work we weren’t paid to ask questions, but to follow orders. Another thing – asking questions ninety nine out of one hundred times got you killed.

Those green eyes turned to me, searching “, I hope I didn’t interrupt something?”

“We were now heading to lunch,” quipped Cassian.

“Ah yes, lunch,” mused our boss and pushed a curly, sable forelock of hair off his forehead.

My stomach growled, loudly and both pairs of eyes turned to me.

I looked to them both “, what? It’s lunch time and I’m hungry!”

D’Antonio stepped to the side “, buon appetite (enjoy your meal).”

I inclined my head to him. Grasping Cassian’s hand I dragged him from the steps to the car. I glanced back to see D’ Antonio staring at us, a crisp navy blue beacon in the distance.

“I’m so kicking your ass today Cheekbones,” I growled to Cassian as we stalked each other round the training mat.

Cassian scoffed “, I’m gonna get you back for that Cheekbones comment.”

I raised my fists and adjusted my stance, balancing my weight on the balls of my feet waiting for him to attack.

“Thought you were going to get me back for that Cheekbones comment?” I  asked with sweet falseness “,scareddd?”

“Ladies first,” he smiled.

I scoffed “, such the gentlemen aren’t you, Cheekbones?”

I lunged, ducked under his swinging arm and rolled to right his side. I fired a kick to his head, like lightening he blocked with braced forearms. His hand grasped my ankle in a vise grip and pulled, shifting me off balance. I twisted using the angle to my advantage. I aimed and tried to slam a fist into his gut. His large hand captured my much smaller one in an enclosed fist.

He lowered his head to eye level “, are you even trying to kick my ass?”

I smashed my forehead against his. Ouch. Little stars appeared in my vision. Cassian staggered back, hand cradling his nose.

I took advantage of his momentary distraction and charged again. Springing into a handstand from the side I wrapped my legs round his neck and body slammed Cassian into the blue training mats with a bang. He struggled against my clenched thighs as I squeezed cutting off his air supply.

“You were saying?” I huffed “, tap out.”

He complied and smacked the mat three times. I released my strangle hold on his neck. Instantly he gasped for air, a triumphant grin spread across my face.

I scooted closer to Cassian and placed his head on an outstretched leg “, well at least we know who’s buying dinner.”

He tried to laugh but coughed instead, an ‘I will get you back’ look coating his features. I honestly felt a bit scared.  

A slow, solitary round of applause began.

“And everyone says that women are the weaker sex. Well… I beg to differ,” commented a voice with a thick Italian accent “, at least I know my money is being put to good use.”

Cassian and I stood. Santino leaned on a pillar in the far corner of the room and regarded us with a sarcastic twist of the lips.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I greeted.

His attention turned to me, a spark of anger flashed in his green eyes. I frowned at the reaction. What was he angry about? I opened my mouth to speak as his head guard Ares walked in, five foot two, one hundred and twenty one pounds of mean and nasty. She was mute from birth and communicated using sign language.

Her hands fluttered in front of her as she spoke to D’Antonio. Mutely he nodded as he read the motions.  Cassian and I waited, side by side for further instruction or a dismissal.

Santino ran his hands down the front of his maroon blazer contemplatively.

He nodded to Ares “, deal with it and report back to me.”

He glanced back to me, eyes boring into mines “, molto bene (very good) y/n,” and left.

I looked up at Cassian, wordless communication passing between us. He shrugged, he was as perplexed as me about his appearance and comment.

I exhaled deeply “,dinner?”

Cassian shifted beside me “, sounds good.”

“Remember you’re buying!” I tossed over my shoulder as I made my way off the mat.

This seemed to turn into a regular pattern. Whenever Cassian and I were together Santino D’Antino would appear. His eyes glued to me as he addressed us both, a searching almost expectant look on his face. It seems I never figured out what he wanted because he’d stalk angrily away from us. It had gotten so strange to the point he went out of his way to appear at the places I was stationed.

Eventually I had enough of his strange behaviour and pulled him aside in the underground wine cellar he kept. It was safe from all ears and eyes. However, things didn’t turn out the way I expected.

The wooden door clicked closed behind him.

“Do you have some problem with me?” he asked immediately, agitation rolling off of him in waves.

I recoiled “, I was about to ask you the same thing!”

“And what the hell are you even talking about?!” I exclaimed and threw my hands in the air.

He spun on me “, I’m talking about the way you act around Cassian and the way you act around me, it’s like two different people.”

I scoffed.

“You never smile in my presence and you always look like someone’s holding a gun to your head when I talk to you,” he explained pacing back and forth in the old cellar.

I knitted my brows together. I pointed a finger at D’Antonio, the other finding my hip “,wait, and let me get this right… you’re annoyed of the way I act around Cassian and you want me to act the same way around you?”

I stared at him, he offered me his back and sighed deeply “,yes.”

I scoffed again “, do you know how unprofessional that would be? You’re my boss you know?”

He turned and gazed at me, little flames erupting in his eyes hiding the other emotions that were bubbling up to the surface.

“Do you know how unprofessional you look with Cassian?” he countered, taking an akimbo stance.

I searched his eyes, looking beyond the flames to the other emotions behind. I was surprised at what I saw and a part of me was pleasantly surprised and extremely thrilled.

“ You like me don’t you?” I gasped.

He cocked an eyebrow and gave me a thin lipped smile “, and here I thought I was being obvious.”

“More like stalkerish.”

I gazed at him and took in his natural dour expression before he hung his head and moved away from me. I walked to the door and turned the lock. The click caught his attention and he swiveled questioningly.

I cocked my head to the right “, show me then, how much you like me.”

Slowly a venomous grin erupted on his face and he stalked towards me. I backed away from him until my butt hit the sharp edge of the wooden table.

He inhaled deeply and peered at me through half lidded eyes.

“Don’t tempt the devil,” he purred.

His hands reached for my pants and undid them. I stared at him, excitation dancing in my bones. He looped his thumbs on the inside band of my underwear and dragged my trousers and underwear to my ankles. Grasping my waist, he sat me on the edge of the table.

Slowly and teasingly he sank to his knees, his eyes locked on mines. I was already wet for him, virtually dripping.

From the moment, I saw him I thought he was handsome, a bit of a peacock but something about him was edged and subtly emanated danger and violence.

I bit my lip as his eyes slipped from my face. Using his broad, smooth hands he parted my thighs. He looked to me and smiled. I shuddered as he stroked an index finger along my leaking slit. With his eyes still locked on mines he licked the moisture off his finger teasingly.

He continued with his index finger, sliding it along the slit, his finger never going more than a few millimetres inside. Suddenly he sunk his finger inside my folds and slid his finger over my nub. I clutched the edges of the table groaning as ecstasy shot through my body.

He chuckled to himself and placed his head between my legs. I felt his lips press to my core in a kiss. His tongue flicked out and picked up where he left off with his finger, teasing me and eliciting tiny moans. He pushed his mouth further towards my core and slid the flat of his tongue against my engorged bud. I gasped and floundered for something to hold onto. My hands found his sable curls and fisted them.

I held his head in place as he nuzzled and nibbled on my sensitive nub. I moaned appreciatively at his attention and care. He pushed a finger into my slick centre, my head fell back. I groaned, toes curling as he pumped his finger. A second finger entered.

“Mhhh, Santino!” I gasped, my fingers twisting in his hair.

The tingling, pleasurable sensation pooling where his tongue met my flesh. His fingers pumped faster as he sensed my release was closing in. The sensation made its way down my legs turning them to mush and into my stomach.

I fell back onto the table and came, my back arching as a tidal wave of release crashed down on me. Santino continued pumping as my inside spasmed, helping me ride out the sensation. I stilled and lay staring up at the brick cellar ceiling gasping.

He gave one last lick, I shuddered, and he withdrew his fingers. Santino stared down as he nursed the fingers that were inside of me hungrily.

He raised an eyebrow and shot me a smug expression.

I raised onto my elbows and asked breathlessly “, is that all? I thought you said you liked me?”

The other eyebrow raised to meet the other, a look of surprise in his green eyes.

He composed himself quickly “, might we adjourn in the upstairs bedroom, bella?”

I smirked at him and reached out a hand for him to help me up.

“Well I quit,” I announced propped against the plush white pillows.

“What?” asked Santino aghast.

I pushed myself up onto my side looking at him pouring bourbon “, well, I don’t fraternize with my employers and I’m most likely to fuck you at least three times again before the night is over.”

Santino looked astonished.

“Unless you want me to go?” I added slyly.

“No!” he shouted quickly.

I giggled and buried myself into the pillows. I felt the bed sink as he crawled in next to me.

“Only three times?” he asked as he nuzzled my neck.

I moaned.

“I said at least three,” and turned to him “, that means three or more.”

[rivygucci-blog]

The Beatin’ Stick

By Gucci

Sophomore Year-2013/2014

I always hated parties. Too many people I don’t know talking about shit I don’t care about. Living with Rivy (my cousin) in the frat house our sophomore year exposed me to more parties than I ever thought imaginable. You see, the frat my cousin was in didn’t have a house on campus at the time, so to compensate; the off-campus house (my house) was used as tribute.

I tried my best to have my fair share of fun. My band would get to play sometimes; I’d get to bartend here and there; I won the beer pong equivalent of the Heisman Trophy, but this isn’t some story about how my character grew to love parties. I still hate them. So many random people would pack into our house every weekend that it was impossible to keep track of who was supposed to be there and who was an ‘unwelcomed guest’

This story, however, starts far before the party did, and begins with our friend, and my band mate, Dan. Dan was our freshman year roommate. He’s a bigger kid and keeps his head closely shaved. We would often call him baldy, bald bastard and other variations that point out his utter baldness, and if he wasn’t rolling a spliff he was probably smoking one. Dan was the king of scraping a dollar together, whether it was playing guitar outside of the dining halls or selling off his old N64 games. Hell, he’d even pluck his pubes and knit a sweater if he knew he could sell it.

Every day we’d come home from class and there he’d be, with a spliff rolled and ready to smoke. With Dan came the Dan-Van, the Dan-mobile, The Smoking Van, etc. It was a Grand Caravan that he had taken the back rows of seats out of. The spacious area was large enough for at least eight of us to hotbox the whole thing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if enough smoke filled the van to lift it off the ground.

It was a Friday morning. Dan had spent the night after band practice and figured he’d just go to class right from our house. He, however, never made it to class that day. His breaks shit the bed halfway to campus and was left rolling down a side street hoping to any higher power that was willing to listen that he wouldn’t crash into anything. Thankfully something did listen, and Dan was able to coast into the parking lot of a nearby mechanic. Lucky for him, they were able to fix the problem then and there. Naturally, Dan said, “Fuck class.” He came back to the crib and told us all what had just transpired.

That afternoon, He, Rivy and I crawled into the back of the van, rolled a few spliffs and began to plan that night’s events. That’s when I noticed something obscure in the van, something that certainly hadn’t been there before. It was a 4-foot long collapsible steel rod, the bottom third was painted florescent green, the middle was a deep black and the top portion maintained it’s steel color.

“Dan, What the fuck is this?” I asked.

Both he and Rivy looked at me in confusion. Neither of them had any clue. Turns out, ‘this’, was one of the mechanics tools he must have left in Dan’s van. What he used it for was anyone’s guess. Being freshly baked, the three of us decide to play with this foreign object. Baseball, golf, even javelin throwing, basically any sport we could think of we tried. At one point Rivy began to chase me with the stick, exclaiming, “I’m gonna stick this up your ass! You better run! “, “I’m fixing to make me a Gucci shish kebab!” and “I’m gonna getcha’ with the Beatin’ Stick.”

“The Beatin’ Stick.”

The name stuck.

Since I was the last one holding the stick when we called it day, I tossed it in my room and forgot about it.

The party began at its usual time. All of Rivy’s frat brothers came over along with a handful of my friends. Posh, my housemate and President of Rivy’s frat is a big kid and kind of looks like the Moon from The Bear in the Big Blue House (you remember that show right?). Also there was Harold P. Argyle. He was probably 35 at the time and was a former brother of the frat. If Nosferatu had darker skin and was Jewish, that would be the perfect visual for you to steep on when picturing Harold P. Argyle. These two people play a role later on in the story.

In particular attendance were my buddies Mike and Brian. Both hailing from the humble land that is Long Island, Mike is a tall Irish kid with red cheeks and a hot temper. He was a real charmer when it came to women. He probably got laid more times in a week than I have in my entire life, but hey, I’ll take a dry spell over having foreign fluids dribble out of the tip of my dick.

Brian was as gym rat as they come. I would say that his three favorite words were “Protein”, “Bud” and “Lite”. “Mah Dude” was his catch phrase of choice. How the three of us clicked is still a mystery, (I attribute it to beer and Super Smash Bros) but I can still call them some of my best friends to this day. Once all the close friends had gathered, the floodgates holding the sorority girls and random partygoers burst open. High heels clanked up the wooden stairs and the unmistaken aroma of beer, marijuana, and sin filled our raised ranch home.

If there is one thing that pisses me off the most about parties, it’s people who break the rules of beer pong; “elbows” being my biggest pet peeve. Dan and I were playing these two kids whom I didn’t recognize at all. To the left was an average size white kid. He wore baggy clothes and wasn’t the biggest talker. His partner was a very tall, lanky black kid who kinda looked like Snoop Dog if you replaced his corn rolls with a dirty dust mop. He too wore baggy clothes and was the main perpetrator of “elbows” (For those who don’t understand the concept of elbows, it’s quite simple. In beer pong, you must keep your elbows behind the table when you shoot. It is basic etiquette)

So, this being a friendly game, I kindly asked the kid, “Hey man, just watch your elbows.” He responded with nothing but a glare. They began to sink cups on Dan and I, each time leaning farther over the table to do so. He might as well have been slam-dunking the pong balls into our cups. What made the situation worse was the amount of trash talk we were receiving. Pong comes with its fair share of trash-talk and taunting, however, these kids were taking it to the next level. So they win, and the trash talk continues. Dan and I, not being ones to start fights, just ignore it and walk away.

About an hour later I walked downstairs to grab another beer out of my room when I see the two kids standing near my drum set. A third, Hispanic kid, had joined them; he seemed to be their leader. I’m naturally very protective of my belongings, so I walked over to the group and engaged them in what was hopefully a boring conversation so that they would walk back upstairs. I started talking about school and work and they weren’t really listening at all. My plan worked and they left.

The party was basically over as it was well past 1 am. Only the close friends were left along with those three kids and this random, out-of-nowhere girl, Adrian. Posh, the Fraternity President told them that they all had to leave and the party was over. This Adrian she-bitch began to stomp her feet and claimed she didn’t have a ride home. (That sucks for you…)

She demanded that one of us drive her and her friends (The three kids) back to campus. Her argument being that this was our party and that it is our responsibility to get her home safely (Yea, ok. You’d have better luck asking us to kidnap a bunch of midgets, superglue dildos to their heads, and force them to fight gladiator style).

It’s quiet for a moment. Everybody in the room erupted in laughter because that was easily the stupidest thing we had heard all year. Posh tells her that she doesn’t have to go home but she can’t stay here. She responds with more hysterical screaming and stupid remarks.

I head downstairs to process this ridiculous scene in my mind. I can still hear Adrian screaming upstairs. As for Rivy? He was in his room with his girlfriend (now ex) trying to get hard. Suddenly we hear a barrage of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Let’s go, get out!” I hear Posh yell. “Fuck you man! We don’t have a ride home!” one of the three kids hollers back.

Rivy emerges from his room wondering what all the hollering is about.All of a sudden, the tall black kid appears at the top of the stair well. He looks down at the three of us. Brian motions up the stairs to try and force these kids out.

WHACK!

Brian is sucker punched and stumbles backwards down the stairs. The black kid then props his arms against the wall and begins to use his long legs to kick down the stairs and prevent the three of us from coming up.

“Mah dude! What the fuck!” Brain yells.

The battleground is laid out in the following manner. The three kids had their backs to the front door. Upstairs were Posh, Dan, Mike and Harold P. Argyle looking down on them. Downstairs were Brian, Rivy and Myself looking up. The three of us were held back by the long legged kicks from this tall, dark demon. It looked like something out of a video game, where a medium-difficulty leveled boss was blocking an area you had to get to.

Chaos ensues, everyone was screaming and swearing at each other.

“Fuck You!”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Dan lunges towards the kids and winds up tangled with them. He takes a hard shot to the eye. Then it hits me. As if time itself had warped backwards to Dan, Rivy and I smoking in the van hours before. I run to my room and grab The Beatin’ Stick. I pointed it forward like a long spear and with every ounce of oxygen in my body, I yelled louder than I ever had before,

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

I ran up the stairs grasping the Beating Stick like a long sword and started swinging. The three kids turned pale at the sight and motioned to the front door. I began beating them with this pole so bad, you could mistaken me for an angry , old-timer farmer who just caught his 3 sons trying to jerk each other off while their sister cheered them on. In fact, I delivered such a beating, that the tip of this solid pole bent.

As they retreated, they tried grabbing Dan and pulling him out of the door! We grabbed him by his shirt and began a tug of war. After a few moments, we pulled Dan back inside and shut and locked the door. The three kids began banging on the door and ripped the screen clean off.

I hustled back downstairs, waiting for these kids to run around the side of the house and come back in through the sliding glass door. Part of me wanted them to, I was ready for em’. Rivy came up next to me wielding his police baton. We weren’t fucking around anymore.

Tensions settled, and the kids disappeared. Everyone began swapping his perspective of the story. To this day, my friends and all involved can vividly recall the image of me charging up the stairs with the Beatin’ Stick. Ultimately, we decide to call the police and report the incident. We also ordered Domino’s to celebrate our triumph.

Thirty minutes went by, and Harold P. Argyle poked his head out the door in search of the Pizza guy.

“Hey guys! Those kids are still here!” he hollered back into the house.

We all leaped from our seats and hustled outside. Sure enough, the three kids along with Adrian were leaning up against a police car a few houses down. An officer approached us.

“You guys were the ones that made the call right? ” the officer asked.

We explained the situation to him, he told us we had done the right thing in calling the police, and that we were in no trouble what so ever. In fact, the three kids had called the police on themselves to try and get a ride back to campus because it was freezing out (retards). The cop asked Dan if he wanted to press charges. Dan, not really trying to ruin anyone’s life, declined to do so. The cop ensured that he would at least give them a good scare for us.

If you ever have parties, always be careful of who you let in... you never know who you could be dealing with.

To this day, I still have ‘The Beatin’ Stick”. My trunk recently broke and doesn’t stay open. I use the Beatin’ Stick to prop it up when I need access to it. I came to learn that was its purpose all along. However, to me, it will always be the Beatin’ Stick that saved the day, and by far my weapon of choice.

TL;DR: Had a party a few years ago, randoms came over and started trouble, I beat them with a collapsable metal pole, profit.